Battledess Gothic
by warhammer651
Summary: Isn't it wonderful, being able to fall in love time and time again. Marked Complete as I don't plan on making this a full story, but may receive the occasional snippet as the mood strikes me
1. Chapter 1

She was tired.

She knew that was strange. In this place, in between, she shouldn't be able to feel anything.

It wasn't her first time here. She'd been here before, after the war. She'd returned once, in mankind's darkest hour, and she had served again. She had fought hard, against creatures mankind could only grasp in the most general terms. She'd lead others into battle, her sisters by shot and shell if not by class. Some had fallen, but they had saved the world.

She'd fallen in love, and after the war was over they had retired. They had tried to start a family, but they were just too different to do it naturally. They had adopted a child, an orphan of the war, and raised him into a fine young man. Eventually, they had passed from the world.

It hadn't been enough. He had been flesh and blood, for all the steel within him. She was steel and spirit, for all her flesh and blood. She'd endured where he had failed, until the world simply didn't need her anymore.

/\/\/\/\

"I'm afraid that simply isn't possible. In peacetime we barely have enough ships to patrol the travel lanes and keep the free of pirates. Now, in full scale war, with storms raging and cutting us off from reinforcement, you expect me to part with a full battlefleet?"

"No, Admiral, I expect you to allow us to operate these ships. We will provide them, I only need a commander, someone we can trust to handle delicate matters."

"None of my admirals will-"

"None of your current admirals will part with their commands. It is fortunate we have one that has not yet been given his full command."

/\/\/\/\

Time had passed, in this place. She ached and hoped and prayed to gods, new and old, for another chance with him. Another life with him, even if she'd had to spend it under fire and in service to mankind. They had relented, and she'd sailed again, centuries down the line against another terrible foe.

She met him again. Younger than last they met. Sterner, harder, but she could see enough to know it was him.

Fewer of her sister returned that time. They had fewer anchors to the world, this far down the line. Others, distinguished between the last war and this one, stepped up to fill the gaps and they did so admirably. The war ground on, longer and harder than the last, but she fought and survived.

She knew what her reward would be, and it drove her to survive.

They triumphed, in the end, though it cost her half her limbs. As she'd hoped, in the aftermath of the war, it really was him. He didn't have the memories, to be sure. He'd seen and done things differently, but his essence, who he was at his deepest core, was identical. Again, they lived out a scant few decades in peace before they were called away again.

/\/\/\/\

"...And you are sure this will work? This seems more like… Demon summoning than warship construction."

"You are not incorrect, admiral. Rest assured, this ritual has been performed countless times throughout history, and always in mankind's darkest hour."

"Still, the idea of a full warship, this small? Forgive me, my lord, but it strains belief."

"Mine as well, but the records are clear and we've little choice. Abaddon must not get his hands on the fortresses, or he could blast his way to terra itself. Magos, are we prepared?"

/\/\/\/\

It had happened time and time again. By the gods, she must be over a thousand year old now.

Most of her sister in the IJN had stopped coming back, though a few were still consistent. A few friends from foreign shores had also lasted the test of time, and every new threat, every new war brought a fresh horde of faces and names. Most never returned after their war, but a few would come back here and there.

He always remained though.

The details varied from time to time. Sometimes he was a die hard hard loyalist, sometimes one of the most reckless rebels. Sometimes he was devoutly religious and sometimes a staunch heathen. Once, he was the ruler of a vast empire, and once he was a mere enlisted man, but they always found each other in the end.

Time marched on, the technology changed from the familiar chemically propelled shells to magnetic accelerators and other things she could barely understand. The battlefields changed from the lonely seas and forgotten atolls of the Pacific to the cold void and lonely, drifting stars of space.

But their love remained and prospered all the same.

Strange, she thought she heard something, a chanting melody…

/\/\/\/\

"Should it be taking this long?"

"The histories describe rituals taking hours. The rift has stabilized, though only the Emperor knows where it leads. It's not the void, that much we know."

"And if this doesn't work?"

"Then we'll scrape together what dregs we can find. There are enough hulks drifting through the void that we can piece together at least a partial battlegroup."

"A rag-tag fleet against the Despoiler's forces? I am a faithful servant, but such a force would have difficulty triumphing."

"We will do what we must, Spire. We cannot afford to lose."

/\/\/\/\

That was chanting. She could feel herself growing lighter, and her heart leapt with joy. This was another summoning.

Memories trickled back to her consciousness and the magic did its work. Her mind raced as it absorbed the details of her new time.

Almost ten thousand years since her last summoning and the battle above the overgrown husk of Earth.

Some of it was strange, and she couldn't quite grasp its meaning. Blackstone Fortresses? Astartes Chapters, not Legions?

The God-Emperor felt familiar at least. Nostalgic, even, though they seemed to take it far more seriously than they ever had back on Earth.

She was getting closer to the surface now, light was filtering down and stabbing through the black abyss.

More information trickled in, weapons schematics and tactical knowledge. Her poor fairies would have to reload her guns by hand, this time around. How far had humanity fallen to forget autoloaders? Just how close were they to the brink to resort to ballistics and torpedoes instead of warp-energy and plasma lances.

She was close now, almost at the surface. Briefly, her mind flitted to her appearance, what should she wear for her first impression? She couldn't very well resurface naked, she might scare him off before they could even get started!

She was feeling nostalgic, and this galaxy was highly religious.

Her old miko uniform, then.

She breached the surface, at once eager to see her love once more and dreading the battles to come.

/\/\/\/\

Spire had braced himself for many things, even a demon.

He had not prepared himself for a young girl to claw her way out of the rift and slump to the floor.

Much less one with down-scaled macro batteries on a swivel at her waist.

A moment passed in silence as he stared at her. Something about her felt… familiar. Comforting even.

He opened his mouth to speak then hesitated as she slowly stood, still hunched over at the waist.

Then she snapped her back to attention and thrust an arm out as she bellowed

"GOOOOOOOOOOOOD MOOOOOOOOOOORNING, TEITOKU! IT IS I, THE ENGLISH BORN KONGOU, RETURNED TO SERVE ONCE MORE! DESS TO THE ENEMIES OF MAN!"

The room fell to silence as those within simply stared.

Slowly, like a Lance battery turning to track its target, Spire's head swiveled to stare at the Inquisitor to his left.

"...What the fuck?"

* * *

 **This was written for a particular person, and they know who they are.**


	2. Chapter 2

Two people sat at an old, finely-wrought, true-oak desk, staring at each other under the harsh yellow of the station lighting. One was a man, old by the standards of many worlds, but young by the standards of his navy. A veteran of a dozen battles and uprisings, but only just beginning his career. A faithful man, yet open to ideas that would further the cause of his empire.

By all rights, he was exceptional. Already he had faced off against enemies centuries older, with hard-fought millennia of battle behind them, and he had triumphed where others had fallen. His actions and innovative battle strategies had saved worlds; though some had fallen, enough had survived.

Yet there things he had so far been completely unable to wrap his head around. First and foremost, the one in front of him.

"So…you were boarded in the last battle."

It was not a question. He had read the reports thoroughly, but a part of his mind still wanted to hear her confirm it.

The young lady across from him didn't even look up as she finished preparing tea.

"Yep."

A silence persisted for a time.

"You are the size of an average human woman."

Now she did look up.

"That's because Kongou is an average human women, dess!"

He narrowed his eyes, speaking slowly to emphasize the absurdity.

"...A human woman equipped with standard macro-batteries, a functioning gellar field, and a nova cannon."

"A better than average human woman then, Teitoku," She responded as she handed him a cup of what she called 'Jarl Grey' tea.

Part of him wanted to concede the point, but it was overwhelmed by the parts that wanted information that he, quite arguably, was not meant to know.

"A human woman boarded by…" He picked up a dataslate, reading carefully.

"...25 Black Legion Terminators, 40 Black Legion Traitor Marines, and 100 Heretic Armsmen."

He turned a questioning eyebrow towards her, and was met with a shrug in response.

"They weren't what they were cracked up to be, dess."

He straightened in his chair slightly, peering over the edge of the desk at her slen-streamlined form.

"...Where, exactly, did they all go?"

She blinked at him, bemused.

"What do you mean?"

"A Dreadclaw Assault Boat is more than ten meters in length and five in diameter."

She blinked at him again.

"And?"

He could feel a migraine emerging, but he pressed on.

"You are a little over one and a half meters tall." he said, gesturing to the gir-ship in front of him.

She nodded, slowly, as though she didn't see where he was going with this. Hell, she probably didn't know where he was going with this.

"So…where did they go?"

She stared at him over the rim of her teacup for a time, confused. Eventually a thought occurred to her.

"Oh, you wanted to see the battle damage!" she not-quite shouted as she leapt to her feet.

He really didn't want to see that.

"I really didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Teitoku!" she again not-quite shouted as she lifted the hem of her shirt and began pointing out some patches of smooth ski-hull that were paler than the others.

"The Terminators entered Here, Here, and Here dess! They made a bit of a mess, then a lance hit Here and exposed them to KONGOU'S BURNING LOVE! The heretics entered here-"

He managed to snap his gaze back up to her-its face, already filing the official explanation for the size difference into the 'it just fraking works' section of his report.

"Speaking of which, that was a nasty hit to your Plasma vents. Are you sure you are cleared for duty?"

She shrugged, pouting slightly as her…detailed explanation was interrupted.

"It's fine, dess. My techpriests have cleared me for duty."

Wait, what?

"...Your techpriests."

"Yep."

"... What's wrong with our techpriests?"

She shrugged, lowering herself back into her chair.

"They're not very good at detail work, teitoku. They just do sloppy patching and then my engineseers have to remove them and fix it anyways."

He picked up another dataslate and paged through it for a bit.

"I don't believe I have your techpriests in the lists," he said. "If I could meet them, we could transfer the others to ships-"

"He's right here, dess!"

He looked up at her and felt whatever words he had been forming die in his throat.

Standing on his desk was a small figure, scarcely 10 centimeters tall, cartoonishly proportioned and leaning on a tiny skull-and-cog tipped staff. It stared back at him, a pale green light shining from the dark recesses of its hood as tiny mechandrites twitched and stirred under its crimson robes. Slowly it raised a tiny hand and with a metallic echo, it spoke.

"Dess!"

He stared at it for a few seconds, then slowly shifted his gaze to her. She gave him a wide smile and an encouraging nod in response.

He settled back in his chair, collecting his thoughts. Then he picked up the dataslate and regarded the figure once more.

"Name and Rank?"

The tiny figure let out another machine-garbled 'Dess!' as it raised its staff and tapped the base on the desktop. He blinked in confusion as the dataslate's screen turned fuzzy with static before resolving itself into a full crew compliment listing for the Imperial Battlecruiser Kongou.

He turned back to the tiny techpriest, now stiff backed and almost glowing with digital pride.

He picked up his teacup and regarded the liquid inside with suspicion.

"...Perhaps something a bit harder, Teitoku? And more alcoholic?"

"Please."


End file.
